


Nice To Meet You

by deliriyum



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Art, Characters Added As They Appear - Freeform, Comic, Depression, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mild Language, Panic Attacks, bone tiddies, magical skeleton boobies, warnings will be added as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:46:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5814799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliriyum/pseuds/deliriyum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So many timelines, so many ways for you to meet a certain skeletal monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll have to thank Undyne later

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya! So, uh, this is my first fic in a while. Like over a year? Something like that. I'm an old hand at the reader-insert type fic, but it's been even longer since I've written that. Heh. 
> 
> Anyway, since I'm now utter Undertale trash, I've been inspired to write for it. I figured a series of one-shots would be a great way to get back into things before I start working on longer fics for the game. :) And of course my forays into Undertale fic have to be about Sans. Because I'm a dirty, sinful skelefucker.

With a huff, you sat back in your seat, noting that your date _still_ hadn’t arrived.

Undyne, your co-worker, was right when she said the guy she was setting you up with was lazy and not-so-great with arriving to anything on time. It was already nearly a half hour since the agreed upon meeting time, and you’d been here a little early to ensure that you got a good table. What was this guy’s problem? Not that you had been too keen on the idea of a blind date in the first place, mind you. However obnoxious she was about it, you knew Undyne had had good intentions.

But what can you say? She had seemed so sure that you’d like this guy despite his downfalls, and you were so bad at saying no to a friend....

Your kindness and desire to make your friend happy had its limits, though. You hadn’t even met the guy he set you up with yet and you were already starting to dislike him.  
  
‘cause you were really hungry, damn it, and _no_ man makes you wait for food! You were starving!

A voice in the back of your head reminded you of the little plan you’d cooked up in case the date started to go south like this. (And the date hadn’t even started yet!)

Just when you began to consider finally giving up, moving over to the bar, and ordering a stronger drink, a deep voice greeted you.

“hey, sorry about the wait. sup?”

‘ _Damn right, you better be sorry!_ ’ you snapped inwardly. Despite how irritated you were, however, you simply turned toward the voice as he rounded the table to take his seat.

“No, no, it’s alright! Don’t worry about it.” Damn your propensity for being a pushover.

As he took his seat, you gave him a look over. You figured that he would be a monster, given that Undyne herself had said she didn’t have many human friends yet. This particular one had the appearance of... a humanoid skeleton? Huh. Neat. It raised quite a few questions (like how did a skeleton appear so... round and soft?) but that was something you could worry about later. And it was so nice to see he’d put so much thought into what he’d wear tonight, you thought wryly, glancing at his lazy shorts-and-jacket get-up. Must’ve dressed up special just for you.

You couldn’t say you really cared or were offended. Whatever he was comfortable in, you guessed.

While he settled in, you tried to give what you hoped was a pleasant smile. “I’m sure Undyne’s told you, but my name’s _____.”

“sans. and yeah, she told me a bit about you...,” he paused, giving you a lazy smile (or had he been smiling from the start?). “but really only the **bare bones** of an introduction.”

Okay, let’s pretend you didn’t just snort into your menu just now. As you tried to think of a response to his pun, he caught the attention of your waiter, who came over in quick time.

“Welcome. Would you like anything to drink?”

“think i’ll just take a glass of water for now. thanks.”

“Hmm. Could I have another of what I’ve been having?” you requested. You spared a glance between your menu and Sans. “And since I’ve had plenty of time to look over the menu already, I think I’m ready to order, if you don’t mind.”

“heh. go for it.”

You gave the waiter your order while Sans ordered a random appetizer. Had he even looked at the menu? Whatever. After the waiter assured you he’d put your order in right away, you smiled wickedly to yourself.

“I guess I’ll have myself a little appetizer while we wait, too.”

He watched curiously as you bent over to retrieve your purse from the floor and unzip it. Oh, man. You’d been looking forward to doing something like this for so long now. You’d gotten the idea online from some list of ways to mess with people and now would be the perfect time. If it scared the guy off then, well, you’d know right then it never would have worked out, anyway. Sense of humor or bust, yo.

From your purse you produced a small bottle of a thick, white goop, and as you lifted it to the table you made sure to have the label facing in Sans’ direction. You gave him an innocent smile and offered the bottle to him.

“Want some?”

And before he had a chance to answer, you flipped up the mayonnaise container’s cap and squirted a generous helping into your mouth. You made a show of closing your eyes and savoring the flavor of the vanilla pudding you had prepared.

After a moment, when you didn’t hear any response (let alone the alarmed, disgusted one you expected), you lowered the bottle and stared across the table in confusion. Sans was simply regarding you silently with a raised eyebrow ridge and his ever-present smile.

Slowly, he pulled one of his hands from the pocket of his jacket, producing a bottle of ketchup. He then proceeded to keep eye contact with you as he, too, flipped open the bottle’s cap and then squirt its contents into his mouth.

You stared, dumbfounded. Was that _actual_ \- Oh. _Oh._

Sans’ smile grew even wider.

“heh. gotta say, i like a girl who enjoys herself a good condiment.”

...

“ _Take me now._ ”


	2. He probably wrote his number on the wrapper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day. I'm on a roll!
> 
> You know... like a hamburger roll? Yeah? 
> 
> ...I'm horrible, I know.
> 
> Warnings for some language and alcohol use. 
> 
> Also, I promise to eventually have some serious chapters! I have some ideas for some angsty ones, but these mindless and funny ones come a little easier to me.

By the time you arrived home, you were about ready to collapse. Today had been a long day of last-minute cramming, exams, and more near panic-attacks than you could reasonably handle.

Thank the stars it was over. For this semester, anyway. For now, however, you were free to just unwind and forget about formulas and history dates and everything else that you’d been filling your mind with for the past few weeks in preparation. The thought comforted you as you shook out of your jacket and slipped out of your shoes. content to fall onto your bed in your clothes.

A nap sounded really, really good right now.

Just as you felt yourself begin to drift into an easy sleep, you heard your front door slam open and your roommate begin to hoot and holler.

“____! Exam week is ov-ah! Where you at? It’s time to party!”

...okay, a drink or seven also sounded really, really good right now, too.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Your roommates hadn’t needed to do much convincing to get you to agree to a night of celebration and bar-hopping with them. It seemed like everyone else on campus had had the same idea. Every bar you went to was full to bursting, even the establishments that typically didn’t see much student activity.

Thankfully, you and your roommate had stuck to your plans to only hit up the places near your apartment. Drunk you wasn’t always so thoughtful to do so. Even as the night wore on and you got more and more sloshed, you did pretty well at staying in line. Until you and your roommate decided that you were both absolutely starving and absolutely had to go to Micky D’s immediately.

The problem with that, of course, was that only the drive-through was open at this hour, and neither of you had a car or were much less in a state to drive one. Luckily, drunk-you, in a stroke of absolute genius, had a plan.

Which brings you to current situation: shuffling through the drive-through with your arms outstretched toward an invisible wheel, loudly slurring, “HONK HONK! COMING THROUGH!”

The plan was fool-proof. Even if you didn’t really have a car, you could _pretend_ to have a car. The workers would think that _you_ think you have a car. The best part? They couldn’t call you out on it! Wasn’t ‘the customer is always right’ some sort of universal law that must be upheld? You certainly thought so. Even if the customer was also on their way to black-out drunk at the same time. Right? Right.

So your mission was now clear. You were to pretend to drive up and order your food, adding in catchy sound effects to seal the deal. Maybe you’d honk the horn a few more times so that the person taking your order was absolutely sure that your car was absolutely real and that your order was completely legit, no matter how invisible the car might be.

The only hitch in your plan had been when your roommate had had a pretend car crash, veering off to the right and face-planting into a neatly trimmed hedge. No matter! You had more than enough grit and determination to pull this off alone.

You pulled up to the speaker to order neatly (or so you thought), interrupting the worker’s beginning spiel with an over-dramatic imitation of your wheels screeching as you came to a stop.

“Sorry, brakes are actin’ up. Gotta get those fixed,” you slurred, leaning in close to the speaker and almost caressing it as you apologized. “S’not a problem.”

“...what.”

Oblivious to the tinny, confused voice, you regarded the large, glowing menu seriously, humming to yourself as you thought. Distantly, you recognized the speaker emit a sharp, amused exhale as whoever was working must have looked at their security feed to figure out what was going on.

“heh. okay. so what would you like, kid?”

“Hmm,” you intoned for a drawn-out moment, “Got anything on special?”

“can’t say that we do, kid.”

Flabbergasted at this, you mumbled to yourself about outrageous business practices before squinting and leaning in close to the menu once again. “Guess I’ll jus’ have...,” you paused, huffed, then leaned back and smiled, “one’a yer fines’ cow patties. Hoooold the meat. Extra mayo.”

Yeah, that sounded absolutely perfect. Satisfied with your order, you pounded your fist on your imaginary horn. “BEEP BEEP!”

“feeling extra **saucy** tonight, kid? more of a ketchup guy myself.”

Once again, you found yourself squinting and leaning toward the speaker, corners of your lips cast downward.

“That was bad and you should feel bad. Ya dingus.”

The speaker popped and fizzled in the night air as if he was about to respond but it once again fell silent. When it finally crackled to life one last time, the voice on the other end seemed to be quietly chuckling and catching his breath.

“pull up to the window, please.”

Pleased and feeling victorious, you once again assumed your driving pose and vroom vroom’d your way to the window. You pulled up, where a white, boney arm was leaning out of the window. After going through the motions of putting your imaginary car into park, you began rummaging through your purse for the stray dollar bill and change you knew must be scattered in it somewhere.

“How much does I gotta pay?” you asked, stumbling in spot a little as you practically shoved your face into your bag, looking for the stray money. “Gots money around here... somewhere....”

Unable to find anything but a few crumpled sticks of gum, you gathered them in your hand and turned to hand them to the guy at the window. You paused, swaying in your spot as you narrowed your eyes at the monster leaning out of the pay window and regarding you with a raised... Where’s his eyebrows, you thought with alarm. Oh my god.

“Ohhh, geez. Oh, no. Where... You poor, poor man,” you moaned, dropping the gum as you drunkenly slapped a hand to your face and dragged it down. The man, who you now recognized as a skeleton, simply watched you with an amused expression. “Your eyebrows. I-I’m... I’m so sorry for your loss.” And... yep, there you go. You were even tearing up a bit.

His seemingly-permanent grin widened even more at that.

“actually, kid... I **mayo** or **mayo not** have ever had any to begin with.”

As if personally affronted by his pun, you reeled back and looked at him with disgust.

“Nevermind. You don’t deserve eyebrows!” Statement complete with a dramatic finger jab at his forehead.

He chuckled and shook his head at you a little before finally reaching somewhere behind him and producing a bag.

“fine, fine. I know when it’s time to give up on a dream like that and just **relish** what I have.”

“I’m not drunk enough for this.” You kept your eyes narrowed at him.

“heh. okay. see ya, kid.”

You continued to watch him with narrowed eyes, going so far as to start driving backwards just so you could keep your eyes trained on him. He simply smiled and waved.

It didn’t occur to you that your roommate was probably still passed out in that bush until you were back home.

\--------------------------

The next morning, you woke up with the worst hangover of your life and a rather irritable roommate. After popping a few tylenol and settling down on your couch with some tea (making vague promises to yourself to never, ever drink again), you spotted the unopened paper bag from McDonald’s. Curious, and vaguely recalling the previous night’s antics, you peered inside. Some sort of sandwich.

You reached in and unwrapped it, immediately making a face as a huge glob of mayo dripped down your front and into your lap. Between the two hamburger buns was nothing _but_ mayo. Not wanting to drip the condiment onto the floor or couch if you stood up right away, you grabbed the wrapper, hoping to somehow wipe the majority up with that.

Something about the wrapper made you pause, and you narrowed your eyes at it as you turned it in your hand for a better luck.

Instead of the arching logo of McDonald’s, the wrapper bore the logo of... Burger King??

“HOW.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had too much fun with this. Poor, poor Sans and his poor, poor non-eyebrows.


	3. Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been a long, long time since a human was able to harness magic like this.
> 
> It had been a long, long time since a human knew how to keep it under control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya. First serious addition! I feel so grown up now.
> 
> Heh.
> 
> Anyway, I'm going through some serious ssri withdrawal right now (since I was snowed in for the past few days and unable to pick up my prescription) so apologies for any mistakes in this.
> 
> Warnings for just... really awful feelings of depression and anxiety portrayed in this chapter. The basic idea behind this is "what if I combined a panic attack from a highly depressed person with the concept of a human wielding incredibly strong but uncontrolled magic" so the chapter is pretty intense. Please be careful reading this if that sort of thing is rough on you!
> 
> But if you are up to reading it, please do let me know what you think. It's been a long time since I've written something this heavy (or tried to put my own experiences with panic attacks and depression like this into words.)
> 
> Also, you can find/contact me on my [Tumblr](http://sans-the-skelebae.tumblr.com).

It had never gotten this bad before.

Admittedly, you’d lost control too many times in the past. Too many to count. You knew there had been times when things had gotten out of hand before. Those experiences had always left you feeling so drained of energy and so ashamed afterward. Each time you had promised yourself it would be the last; no more letting your emotions get the best of you and certainly no more of letting _that_ get so out of hand.

But losing your job, the only thing you had to keep you grounded? Knowing that you had no savings to land back on and you were already a month late on rent?

It was too much.

The shock had turned into depression, into panic, into a whole series of emotions that came in intense waves that drowned you until, when you finally came up for air, there was nothing but anger and fury and self-hatred left.

And it was those things that always triggered the worst of it. Each and every time you felt that crackle of power down your back, rushing through your body until your head was clouded over and you could see the sparks of magic leaping between your fingertips. Zaps of unidentifiable color that made your entire hand numb, scars of unbridled energy and power criss-crossing all the way up to your elbow from times past.

It had been a long, long time since humans had been able to harness this much magic. It had been a long, long time since any human knew how to even begin to control it.

The little bit of reason that had yet to flee your mind, buried so deep it was barely a whisper, told you that you needed to calm down. Said if you couldn’t reign it in, you were going to be consumed until nothing but anger and fury and self-hatred were left or you were dead.

Part of you thought you deserved nothing more. Part of you wanted nothing more.

 _No. No. What were you going to do? Where would you go? You couldn’t live out on the streets, not again, not after-_ Arcs of magic leaped up your arm, burning intensely and making you growl in pain. Your fist shot out at the brick wall next to you, smashing into the surface with such ferocity that a spiderweb of cracks bloomed across the surface of the wall. Your knuckles were already split open and vaguely you felt dizzy from all the blood loss, from the magic swirling around you unchecked, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to stop.

Maybe, that little bit of remaining reason hoped desperately, maybe if you stayed in this alleyway and just smashed this wall until it was out of your system.... Maybe if you could keep yourself here until you passed out from exhaustion or until the magic simply ate you up from the inside out. Maybe this time you wouldn’t hurt someone again, wouldn’t leave a crumpled body in an alleyway for another poor soul to find.

You were sick. You were disgusting. You were trash. How could you let this happen again? How could you do that to so many innocent people each time you...

_But what if someone came into the alleyway of their own volition? You were making such a racket, someone was bound to come investigate and then...._

More self-hatred filled you, bubbling up from your gut into your head, escaping you in a pained scream. You flung your right arm across your body, and with a flash of light the dumpster in front of you crashed into the opposite wall and crumpled like nothing more than a tin can. You bowed your head, heaving, letting your hair fall to cover your face.

_Shameful. Disgusting._

“looks like you’re having a bit of trouble there, pal.”

_Oh, no._

Oh, no, of course someone had to show up now. Why this? Why you? You didn’t want to hurt anyone else, but your teeth were grit so tightly and all of this power was consuming you so entirely-

Almost as if someone else were controlling you, more fury began to swell in your chest, leaving you breathless. Abruptly, the dumpster was hurdling down the alley toward the voice, clashing against smaller trash cans and other things set up along the way. How _dare_ someone interrupt you like this, spoke so calmly at you while you were falling apart. They deserved to be hurt, deserved to have their faces bloodied, your fists pounding into them while your magic swirled around them and burned and disfigured and _killed_ -

_No, no, no, no...._

Suddenly, the dumpster stopped, made to hover in the space between you and the voice with a fiery, glowing blue. It lowered to the ground almost gently, revealing the source of the magic just across the way - a short, grinning skeleton, one eye glowing in the same magic and a calm expression giving away nothing of the dangerous feeling you could sense coming from him in waves.

Your head snapped up to meet his gaze, wild-eyed and furious, scared, so torn and so _exhausted_ now-

The magic around his eye flickered, his guarded expression slipping into a confused, wide-eyed stare. He almost looked... frightened?

“...a human?”

And now you were running toward him, fists clenched and feet carrying you faster than you could normally move. _No, no, no-_ But the fire around his eye was back, stronger, and he fixed you with that thinly-veiled look of threat once more. His own hand, also full of magic, bright blue and gathered around his fingertips like the flame of a candle, raised toward you.

“don’t think so, buddy.”

Your stomach lurched as your body was made to come to a sudden stop, arms fixed in place by an unseen force. You had to be at least a foot, two feet off the ground now, your legs dangling helplessly in place. With a strangled, choked sound, you tried to lash out at the monster once more, but it was no use.

His magic was so much stronger and you couldn’t move or escape his grip no matter how much you tried. Something in you sensed he could end you right at that moment if he really wanted to.

Suddenly, the waves of fury were gone, dripping off you with an ease it never had before, and a welling panic and sadness and exhaustion took its place.

That small voice of reason was gone, had given up on you, and was replaced by a desperate, pleading voice now. Tears prickled in your eyes as its words erupted forth from you like a tired, broken mantra.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, suddenly breathless. Your lungs felt so heavy, unable to draw breath in anything but deep, quick gasps. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

A moment passed, and then you could feel yourself being slowly lowered to the ground. Your knees buckled beneath you, your bloodied hands coming to catch your fall as you fell forward. The magic that was once crawling up your arm crackled once, twice, before fading and disappearing in front of you.

“what’s that?”

His voice sounded so much closer now. There was a shuffle of footsteps and suddenly, he was crouched in front of you, still looking careful and guarded, but also... concerned? Concerned for _you_? No, no, no... you didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve anything. You had just... you were so ready to hurt him, just now, to turn him to dust, and you wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself. You were never able to stop yourself, not once, yet he....

“I can’t,” you whispered, averting your eyes to the ground, curling into yourself as a sob broke out. “I don’t want to... I can’t do this anymore. Please....”

Whatever cautious boundary he might have placed between the two of you was gone now, as you felt a small hand find your back and begin rubbing comforting circles.

“hey, it’s alright. it’s over. it’s over now, okay?”

Another sob wracked through your body, your arm quick to shrug him off as you scooted back and away from him, alarmed.

“No, no, no. Please, I can’t... I don’t want to deal with this anymore. _Please_ ,” you begged quietly, looking at him from beneath the fringe of your hair. It took all of your remaining energy to keep your heavy-lidded eyes open, now, black creeping in on your vision. Why couldn’t he _understand_ what you-

Both of his hands raised slowly, palms facing you in a placating gesture.

“woah, woah. it’s okay, alright? you’re fine. what do you-”

“ _Please_ ,” you reiterated once more, finally giving up the fight and letting yourself slip away.

“kid, I can’t... tell me what you need. what you want. i can help.”

One last sob, and your eyes slid closed.

“ _I don’t want to live anymore._ ”

And the world was black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there ya go. Please let me know how I did, okay?
> 
> ...'cause this is one of the ideas I have that I'm considering turning into a longer fic. heh heh.


	4. your cries of relief must've sounded so sexual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least they didn't have to call the fire department to cut you loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how this one ended up so long, but I'm just glad the words are coming so easily at this point.
> 
> Also, I'm going to try to keep up with posting at least once a day... at least until I finish the outlines for some longer fics and need to switch focus to them. 
> 
> At the moment I have five more chapters of this collection in the works, though! And obviously more as I think of 'em. 
> 
> (On the same note, if anybody has any ideas they'd like to see done, lemme know! Just no smut for now, please~)
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr [here](http://sans-the-skelebae.tumblr.com)

“Not a single word.”

Face flushed with embarrassment, you pointedly looked away from your friend, who was doubled over in laughter and doing absolutely nothing to help your predicament. You narrowed your eyes at the ground, finding a particularly interesting patch of dirt. It was getting hard to pretend the intense, squeezing pressure around your thighs didn’t hurt.

“You’re so _stupid_ and I can’t believe-” your friend snorted, one hand covering her mouth as she tried to calm her laughter and catch her breath. “The swing is meant for, like, five-year-olds! Of course you were going to get stuck!”

The heat of your blush had now reached the tips of your ears. You felt like you were shrinking from the humiliation. If only that were the case; maybe then you’d be able to lift yourself out of this swing. It’s not like you didn’t realize your legs were much too big to fit in the small thing. You hadn’t even meant to put your legs through the holes in the first place, really. The plan had been to squat in the damned thing to swing, but your feet had slipped and... Well, here you were.

“Okay, ha ha, it’s hilarious. Thanks. Can you at least _try_ to help me?” Shit. That sounded a little more desperate than you’d meant for it to sound.

While your friend quieted her giggles, she still had a shit-eating grin that you tried to ignore. The quicker you figured out how to escape this death trap the sooner you could regain feeling in your legs.

“Looks pretty tight. Any idea how you’re gonna get out?”

“Yeah, uh,” you started, glaring down the seat in thought. “Why don’t you, uh... push down? While I grab the chains here and try to lift out?”

She didn’t seem too convinced that would work, but placed her hands on the sides of the seat, anyway. On a count of three, she began to push down while you used your limited upper body strength to try to pull yourself up. Man, this was _really_ starting to hurt....

“need any help?”

Oh, great. Just what you needed, you thought. Someone else to bear witness to your humiliation. Your friend seemed to think the arrival of someone new was fantastic, though. She responded while you tried to avoid eye contact with whoever the voice belonged came from. Oh, the shame.

“Oh my God, yes! She’s been stuck for, like, an hour now. Can you do anything?”

The owner of the voice approached slowly, a hum deep in his throat as he considered your predicament. You looked up at him long enough to note that he was a monster, on the short side, and had the most amused, shit-eating grin on his face. It put your friends’ to shame for sure

Part of you vaguely recalled seeing him in the area before, so maybe he lived in the same series of apartment complexes you did? You were sure you’d never formally met, but... Okay, you definitely recognized him and he definitely might have caught you staring a few times in the past.

“i think I can **swing** something.”

You’re not sure if the sound that you just produced was a snort or a groan, but he seemed to like your response. His smile grew even wider, the pinpricks of light in his eye sockets meeting your eyes. He started walking in circles around you, taking full stock of the situation.

“...any ideas?” you asked after a moment, nervous at his scrutiny. Another contemplative hum, and he was wiggling his boney finger between your hip and the seat. The high-pitched yelp you made from the unexpected contact was probably not the most dignified sound you had ever made. And your blush must’ve gotten that much worse, because your friend was waggling her eyebrows at you. Oh, geez.

“looks like you’re stuck in there pretty good. i don’t know. i’m kind of going **back and forth** on a few different options here.”

There goes another snort-groan. You tell yourself it’s because you’re light headed from losing circulation in your legs. Yeah, that’s it.

“Seriously, though, my legs feel like they’re about to fall off.” You glanced over at your friend, who seems to have finally noticed the way your thighs are turning colors around the leg holes of the seat. “Can you... are you gonna actually be able to help me or not?”

“heh. yeah, sure. give me a second here.”

He circles back around you again, and this time you try to look over your shoulder to see what he’s doing. The part of you that isn’t focused on your numb legs notes that, somehow, he’s kinda cute. Okay, he’s really cute. Why had you never noticed that in all the times you’d seen him around? Is it racist (monsterphobic?) for you to wonder how a _skeleton_ can be cute?

Either way, you somehow feel even more humiliated about your situation now that you’ve taken a look at him and find him attractive. Oh, boy.

Then, as if it helps your current train of thought, he places his hands on the hips of the seat, his thumb bones grazing your skin just the tiniest bit. What is he doing?

There’s a small flash of blue light on either side of you, and suddenly the hard plastic of the swing is falling away from you. The immense build-up of pressure on your thighs is relieved and it feels so good to not be trapped anymore. Unfortunately, your legs really had gotten very numb and, without the swing to hold you up, you crumple to your knees the moment you’re released. Your friend claps and cheers at your rescue.

“there ya go.”

“Oh, man, this feels so good,” you moan, rubbing roughly at your thighs to get the blood flow back to normal.

“You okay now, ____?” your friend asks, kneeling next to you. “Sorry I couldn’t be much help myself.”

“It’s okay. You tried,” you assured her. “I’m just lucky that...”

You trailed off as you looked around, hoping to thank your savior, but he was gone. You hadn’t even heard him walk away. Well, that sucks, you think with a frown. Then again, he likely has better things to do than to stick around an idiot who gets stuck in a child’s swing at a playground. Still, you hoped you would get to see him around again sometime.

\-------------------------

It was late, and cold, and this just really wasn’t your day. And also, this playground was cursed. It had to be.

Here you were, all by yourself as the sun began to set, somehow folded up and stuck in a broken slide.

You really had to stop coming to this place. (Or at least stop climbing on the playground equipment meant for children.)

You had been on your way home, taking the route through the park, when you’d decided you wanted to go down the short, plastic slide. But you hadn’t expected to get stuck when the plastic cracked into a large hole, basically swallowing up your butt into the void of space beneath the slide. Your hands were free, but you couldn’t reach around the slide and into your back pocket, where your phone was. Perfect.

“Hello!” you called out, the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes, feeling miserable and humiliated.

“hi.”

Shit. How did he sneak up on you like that? And of course it would have to be one of the only other people who knew that you’d been bested by playground equipment just days ago.

“Please put me out of my misery,” you groaned.

The monster who had rescued you before walked to the front of the slide.

“ **hang out** here often?”

Shaking your head, face flushed a brilliant red, you buried your face in your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond. When you lifted your head to face him once again, his head was tilted in curiosity and amusement. He looked so cute. Oh no.

“this is becomin’ a real problem for you, ain’t it, kid?”

“This playground is cursed,” you mumbled after a long moment, “Not my fault.” At this rate, he would think you were doing it on purpose!

“uh huh.” He leaned over, tilting his head and looking at everything hanging below the hole in the slide.

...which was basically your ass, for the most part. No, your face wasn’t burning. Nope.

“looks like you’re stuck in there pretty good, **butt** I think I can help ya out. again.”

This time he simply grabbed your hands to help pull you out without the use of magic. At least, you think that’s what he used last time. Either way, the help was appreciated. And his hands had been comfortably warm, too, so that was a nice bonus.

When you were finally on two feet again, you remembered how quickly he had disappeared last time, so you made sure to thank him before he could vanish again.

“Hey, thanks for helping me out,” you said, keeping your eyes on him. He couldn’t disappear like that if you didn’t look away, right?”

“again,” he added. Boy, were the tips of your ears on fire?

“Again. Yeah. Um, I guess I’ve just had the worst luck lately. And. Um. I’m ____, by the way. Not that you really care or need to know my name,” you rambled, nervous and not sure where you were going with this. “Though I guess it would come in handy to know if this happens again. Not that I, uh, plan on getting stuck again or anything, but... Yeah. Even though that seems to be the only way we run into each other?”

...you didn’t just say that. Oh, god. Now he was going to think you _were_ doing this on purpose just to see him.

He didn’t seem to mind your awkward verbal fumbling, at least. Just seemed more amused, if anything. Did he notice how badly you were blushing? You hoped not.

“nice to meet you, ___. i’m sans. i think i’ve seen you around before.”

“I-I thought so, too, but wasn’t really sure.... Nice to meet you.”

Why were you finding it so hard to carry on a conversation with him? Ugh. Before you could think of a better response to continue things, he was already turned and walking away, throwing a wave over his shoulder.

After a few steps, he stopped, looked over his shoulder at you, and smirked.

“and I know you’re **stuck** on me, but you don’t have to play damsel in distress to get my attention. i’m over in apartment 305b if you ever want to **hang** out.”

...He totally thought you were getting stuck on purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nameless friend is nameless.
> 
> As always, lemme know if you find any errors. I know there have got to be tons of grammatical ones, at least. Since, you know, I'm posting these the moment I finish writing them. I'm impatient.


	5. mister teacher sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this class was bound to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so good at titles.
> 
> My desire to write a college fic is so strong. This is definitely not going to be the last one in such a setting.
> 
> As always, hope you enjoy and thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback so far! Nearly 500 views already, 38 kudos, and 6 comments. You guys are great.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://sans-the-skelebae.tumblr.com)

When you entered the classroom, no one else was there. That was to be expected, of course; you were at least twenty minutes early, by your watch, just as you had planned. You had decided to come early to speak with your new professor, hoping to get in a good first impression. Rumor was he had an in with your university’s med school, so when you registered for his class it was with the intention of eventually getting a glowing recommendation by the end of the semester.

Yeah, you were planning on being a little suck-up, but if it got you into your choice of med school, you could swallow your pride.

Your previous class had been all the way on the other side of campus, so you probably looked like a mess now after rushing here. Feeling self-conscious, you straightened your shirt a little bit and stepped further into the room. No sign of other students, but no sign of the professor, either. Hopefully he showed up early enough for you to get a chance to actually talk to him without interruption from classmates.

Thinking back to the little you knew about him, you weren’t sure if he was the sort to show up to class early, but it was worth a shot to be here. Actually, besides that rumor, you couldn’t say you knew much about him at all. He was new to the campus. Maybe new to teaching altogether, since you couldn’t find a single bit of information about him online. Not even trusty rate-my-professor had a single review, despite him having at least taught a class last semester. Strange.

With a sigh, you took the opportunity to pick out a seat somewhere in the middle and set your things down. You also took this time to give the room a good looking-over, eyes glancing over the various anatomical posters and shelves full of models. On the other side of the room was a door labeled simply ‘LAB’, where you’d be spending half of the class getting hands-on experience with the subject matter.

There were little-to-no personal artifacts from the professor. A sign he didn’t have tenure yet? Maybe.

Since you were still alone, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to walk around and maybe fiddle around with some of the anatomical models. You found a bit of pride in already being able to name various parts out of the cross-sections and such, knowing their importance and how they worked.

Finding your way to the front of the room, you took pause when your eyes found the professor’s front desk. Hunched over the desk was... Heh.

“Cute. The professor posed the skeleton model at his desk,” you said out loud to yourself. How had you not noticed it earlier? Well, at least your professor had a sense of humor. Your favorite kind of professor, to be honest. This class was bound to be fun, recommendation or not.

Smiling to yourself, you approached the professor’s desk, noting the casual clothes the professor had dressed the model up in. Shorts, a hoodie, pink slippers.... It was almost like he was trying to imitate the casual, lazy dress of the students that were bound to be in the class. Or maybe this was simply the corpse of an extremely bored student from last semester.

Because he was, you know. Bored to death?

“Hardy har har, I crack myself up,” you snickered, shaking your head. After casting a glance toward the door to make sure you were still alone, you leaned forward across the desk. You pinched the material of the sleeve between your fingers, raised the model’s arm, and let it fall back to the desk with a satisfying _thud_. Hmm. The model felt pretty heavy. Weren’t they usually made of a simple, hard plastic? You shrugged.

“Yep. Bored to death, alright.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noted how little time had passed. Ugh. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to come _this_ early.

“my class hasn’t even started and you’re already calling it boring? i’m hurt.”

Startled, your head swiveled around the classroom, looking for the source of the voice. The classroom was still empty. What in the-?

“Professor?” you called out tentatively, wondering if maybe there was a speaker or something nearby he was talking through.

“that would be me, yeah.” Once again, your head swiveled around, but this time landed on...

Oh, shit.

The figure at the desk was now sitting up, jaw resting on one of its - _his_ \- hands, the other hand waving lazily in your direction. Now that the monster you’d mistaken for a skeleton model was facing you, you could see the tell-tale signs of life you hadn’t seen before: the pin-prick of light in his pitch black eye sockets, the malleable facial bones poised in an expression of smug amusement.

So much for first impressions. So much for a glowing letter of recommendation.

“Oh my god, I am _so_ sorry,” you gushed, feeling awful and embarrassed. You’d just mistaken your professor for an inanimate object, for christ’s sake. “You were just so still and I didn’t think to see if you were breathing and... I’m so sorry.”

“hey now, don’t **patella** me you can’t tell the difference between a model and the real thing?” Honestly, you couldn’t tell if he was smiling right now or if that’s just how his face _was_.

“ **tibia** honest, that makes me a little disappointed. this is an advanced class, you know.”

Unsure if this teasing meant he was mad or not, you stayed silent, eyes still wide and apologetic.

“hey, don’t worry about it. really. the mistake was kinda what i was going for. you were just the unlucky one who happened to fall for it first.”

_Oh._ Okay. That’s good. You were so afraid he’d be offended about your mistake, but... Hah. Now that you were calming down and you knew he was cool with it, you could see the humor in this. You guessed that comment about liking a professor with a sense of humor still applied here, even if the semester’s first joke had been played on you.

“Guess I lucked out, getting a professor as **humerus** as you, then,” you responded lightly, eyes lighting up. Puns weren’t your forte, but it just seemed to stumble out all on its own.

“heh. good one. i think you’re going to do alright with this class, kid.”

Maybe you could still get that recommendation after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this class is probably the only one where you could get away with asking your professor to get naked to help you study. 
> 
> Look forward to at least one more chapter today! And feel free to let me know what you think. (I'm so nervous that I'm writing Sans horribly. Heh.)


	6. magical anatomy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You seat yourself next to a monster at the bar. He's talking with the bartender animatedly and only spares you a glance as you take your seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for being gone so long. don't worry, I was only dying a little on the inside while I adjusted to new medication. 
> 
> have a shitty comic I did while I whip out a some new chapters in the coming days.


End file.
